


Chasing marks on our skin

by surena_13



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: F/M, but a weird sort of friends with benefits, i don't really do romance, that's more my style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 10:15:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12604332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surena_13/pseuds/surena_13
Summary: "All is fair in love and war after all. Not that love has anything to do with this."A look into the side of the relationship between Lorca and Landry that Starfleet wouldn't approve of.





	Chasing marks on our skin

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not my characters, I just like putting them through stuff.  
> A/N: Thanks to Margot who read the story to make sure I wasn't writing total garbage, since I've never quite written in this style before. And thanks for putting up with my Lorca obsession.

1.

The first time he kisses her, he kisses her hard, not asking for her permission. Lorca knows he doesn’t need it. She has been staring at his ass for far too often (who decided to make those pants so tight anyway), looking at his lips when talks to her. The fact that she lingered in his arms during their little Klingon simulation probably didn’t help. He’s not wrong either. Ellen has been lusting after him from the moment he shook her hand and welcomed her aboard the Discovery. And she’s definitely not the only one. More than a few crewmembers, male, female, non-binary, look at their captain in a way that suggests their thoughts aren’t completely innocent.

 

But Lorca is kissing her, pushed up against a bulkhead, still sweaty from fighting holographic enemies, and good lord, the man kisses like sin. It makes her legs weak and she’s grateful that he somehow managed to push a thigh between hers so she doesn’t completely collapse. She knows he loves doing this to her, can feel his smug grin against her lips. Somewhere in the back of her head, a little voice tells her to put a stop to this. Starfleet regulations are pretty clear. But she squashes that voice. It’s not like they’re in love. It’s purely physical.

 

His fingers make quick work of her pants before he slides his hand inside them, wasting no time teasing her. She can only cling to him as he circles her clit and pushes two fingers inside her without preamble. Lorca is far too skilled at this and he knows it too. There’s a look of devious arrogance in his eyes as he makes her come in an embarrassingly short about of time. She slumps against him, her fingers aching from the tight grip she had on his shoulders. 

 

She shudders when he removes his hand from her trousers and almost lets her mouth fall open when he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean, never taking his eyes off her. He knows exactly what he does to her, clearly enjoying his little powerplay. She can’t wait to do the same to him. To make him moan her name, to have him at her mercy. She tries to turn the tables on him, but he moves away from her before she can touch him, despite the fact that he’s sporting a rather prominent erection.

 

“Next time, Commander. Next time.”

 

Goddamn him.

 

2. 

The second time he kisses her, he’s angry, frustrated, she can see it in his eyes. They were too late to save the USS Expedition, destroyed by the Klingons, ripped apart, blown to nothingness, no survivors. He hates it, losing people, she can see it in the way he clenches his jaw, the tension in his shoulders and she knew when he ordered her to his Ready Room, it wasn’t for Starfleet business. The doors have barely slid shut before he’s on her, his lips bruising, his hands demanding. He pulls at her uniform, nearly ripping it when she grabs his hands and places them on the edge of his desk.

 

“My turn,” is all she says. Lorca raises his eyebrows and she can still see the anger in the lines around his eyes, but he doesn’t stop her, doesn’t reply, he looks at her, daring her to make the wrong move. Ellen has never been one to back away from a challenge. Especially not now. If he’s feeling frustrated, the least she can do is make life a little bit easier for her, even if only for a moment.

 

Without hesitation, she sinks to her knees in front him, undoing his trousers before she hits the deck. She doubts anyone would walk in without Lorca’s permission, but speed is still of the essence. Rumors are more difficult to extinguish than a Bird of Prey. He’s half hard when she pulls him free of his boxers. That quickly changes when she wraps her lips around his cock and takes him in as much as possible.

 

The low moan is enough encouragement for her. He probably wouldn’t admit it, but he needs this. He needs someone to take care of him without it costing him too much effort. She doesn’t mind being that person. The soft sounds he makes in the back of his throat as she sucks him off only spur her on. He isn’t letting go of his precious control just yet, but he is slowly unraveling, the frustrated tension, being replaced by a different kind of tension.

 

Without warning one of his hand lands on the back of her head and pushes her towards him until her lips are wrapped around the base of his cock. With any other man, she would have been royally pissed off, ready for a fight, but with Lorca, it only turns her on when he goes after what he wants. A choked ‘fuck’ falls past his lips and then he’s coming. She swallows around him and waits until he collapses back against his desk, before getting up and wiping her mouth, the taste of him still on her tongue.

 

He pulls her into a slow kiss, one that isn’t leading up to anything. She supposes it’s his way of thanking her without using his words. It’s a different side to him, one that feels oddly intimate, amplified by the fact that he rests his forehead against hers when he breaks the kiss. The anger is gone, replaced by something she can only describe as guilt. The words leave her mouth before she can do anything to stop them.

 

“There was nothing you could have done, Captain. It wasn’t your fault.”

 

Lorca doesn’t reply.

 

3.

The seventh time he kisses her, it’s almost become a routine. He never really says anything. He orders her into his Ready Room, or this time his quarters, and they don’t speak. It’s a wordless interaction. They have three settings. Professional, conversational where she takes on the role of his confidante, and silent fucking. It should shock her how easy it is to keep them separate, how they never needed to hash out the details, but just came to this arrangement naturally.

 

Tonight is the first time he actually leads her to his bed. It’s first time they actually don’t have to rush, not a quick blowjob or fast fuck. For the first time they can get naked and that skin to skin contact feels incredible, to actually see the muscles he hides under his Starfleet uniform, to be able to trace his scars, see the goosebumps appear when she touches a particularly sensitive spot, it’s intoxicating. But it all pales in comparison when he crawls down her body, settling between her legs.

 

If he kisses like sin, then there are no words to describe how incredibly talented he is with his tongue when he’s actively trying to make her come over and over again. By the end of the night she is thoroughly spent and is glad to see he seems to be in the same state. He drove her insane with multiple orgasms, she returned the favor by teasing him until he said please. Lorca is the closest she has ever come to meeting her match, it’s just too bad they don’t love each other.   

 

In another life, she might have spent the night, woken up in his arms. In this one however, she gets up and gets dressed as soon as she’s sure her legs won’t give out on her. He watches her from his bed, gloriously, unashamedly naked. Even now he has an air of command. She wonders if he ever truly lets his captain façade go or if it has become too much a part of him to separate the man from the rank.

 

“You could call me Gabriel, you know.”

 

She nods, knowing she never will.

 

4.

The twelfth time he kisses her, she’s angry at him, angry for blindsiding him with Michael Burnham, angry that he has become intolerable during his battle simulations, angry that he doesn’t seem to talk to her anymore. Ellen almost wants to push him away, not give in to his desires, but decides against it. If he can use her to work out his frustrations, she can do the same thing to him. She can take from him as much as she has given.

 

She pushes him backwards so he lands on his couch, surprised at her strength despite the few times she has bested him in their sparring sessions. Before he has a chance to utter any indignation at her behavior, she has stripped off her trousers and underwear and is straddling his thighs, claiming his lips in a bruising kiss. He doesn’t get to have say now, Lorca is hers for the night and she will use him for her pleasure. He’s hard already and she has him inside her in a few quick moves.

 

Ellen rides him until the muscles in her les are aching and she can feel the sweat on her back, but it isn’t enough. She grabs his hand and shoves it between her legs. His upper lip twitches, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows what she wants and with a few well-placed moves he has her trembling and on the brink of coming. It annoys her that he is so good at this when she’s still angry with him. With frustrated growl she grabs his hair, yanks his head back, forcing him to look at her, his surprised little yelp pushing her over the edge. She considers not letting him come inside her, letting him clean up his own mess for once. But decides against it in the end. He isn’t the man to waste subtle messages on.

 

When he’s done she is off him faster than she normally is. It didn’t do much to get rid of her anger. Fucking may work for him, but she still wants to say her piece. The words are burning a hole in her tongue by the time she has zipped up her jacket.

 

“We may not be anything to each other, but don’t treat me like anything less than your CSO ever again.”

 

She leaves him sitting on his couch, looking a little pathetic with a contemplative look on his face and his limp dick hanging out of his trousers.

 

3.

The thirteenth time he kisses her, there’s still something unspoken hanging in the air between them, but they’ve never let feelings dictate this part of their relationship. Ellen thinks he knows he deserved to be treated like an ass, since he was acting like one. That hasn’t changed much, but at least he treats her better, to a certain extent. He’s frustrated again, Stamets is taking too long she’s not sure how much patience Lorca has left, so it’s fast, rushed and rough again. She doesn’t mind. It tends to be the way they do it anyway. If she wanted soft and romantic, she would have stopped him the first time he kissed her.

 

She’s bracing herself on his desk, ass tipped upwards as he pounds into her from behind, one hand holds her ponytail as the other has such a tight grip on her hip, it’s sure to leave bruises. It won’t be the first time and probably not the last either. His anger comes off him in waves and can be felt in every single move. He’s literally fucking it away and it hurts, but it hurts so good.

 

She can tell from the sounds he’s making that he is close. Six months ago, she shook his hand and today, she knows what sounds he makes when he’s about to come. Her instructor at the Academy would be horrified. She pretty sure most of Starfleet command would be. She brushes those thoughts away. All is fair in love and war after all. Not that love has anything to do with this. Slipping a hand between her legs, it doesn’t take her long to follow him over the edge.

 

She can already feel a familiar ache as she pulls up her trousers, making herself presentable. The mutineer wants to see her after all. Though she doubts that Burnham would pick up on what exactly she and Lorca have been doing. She doubts the fake Vulcan would be familiar with sex at all. She doesn’t see whatever it is Lorca needs her for, doesn’t want to see it either.

 

Her head is already occupied with the undoubtedly unpleasant conversation she’s about to have with Burnham, when Lorca interrupts those thoughts.

 

“You were right, Ellen. The other day, you were right, and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

 

He has never called her Ellen before, always Commander or Landry. It feels strange, but welcome at the same time. She smiles in acknowledgement.

 

When she’s torn apart by Ripper not much later, the memory of Lorca’s touch is still imprinted on her body.


End file.
